


Romeo wherefore art tho... Romeos?

by EdwardNotSoLittle



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Edward is son, Fitzjames beauty is threatened, Francis is dad, Humiliation, James In A Dress, Jopson in a dress, Jopson is son, M/M, Mr Blanky is rooting for Edward to get the D, Snacking Le Vescante, VERY bad french, terror bingo 2019, very
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-24 00:13:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21329026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdwardNotSoLittle/pseuds/EdwardNotSoLittle
Summary: Sir John Franklin decides that morale is low and MUST be boosted.The word for this bingo:Crinoline
Relationships: Captain Francis Crozier & Sir James Clark Ross, Commander James Fitzjames & Lt Henry T. D. Le Vesconte, Thomas Jopson/Lt Edward Little
Comments: 12
Kudos: 23
Collections: The Terror Bingo (2019)





	1. Chapter 1

When Captain Crozier came looking for him in the orlop. His CAPTAIN transversing the ship to the ORLOP to fetch him, with an irritated and pathetic scowl on his face Jopson knew something was wrong.

He was working on the laundering but he’d run out of soap, so now here he was standing on the tips of his toes as he dug through some crates for more soap for the half-done laundering that still lay beside the basin and scrub board.

“Jopson.” the captain’s gruff voice sounded directly behind him and a large heavy hand settled on his shoulder. 

So wrapped up in the usual silence and routine of his tasks, Thomas hadn’t even heard the man descend the ladder, or even the footsteps that had indicated his presence.

“Oh!” he startled his hand finding purchase on the bag of soap used for laundering at the same time he’d jerked in surprise. 

His foot planted square in a half-frozen puddle from the washing water and he slipped, which quickly threatened to send him toppling to the floor as he was knocked off balance.

Instead of the floor his back and head met with a broad chest and two strong arms that immediately caught his shoulders. 

The whole ordeal had knocked the breath from his lungs as he was left reeling. 

Trying to catch his breath he glanced up at the face of the man who he was half-leaning and half-held against.

Blushing furiously in the wake of Crozier’s deep blue gaze he gave an abashed laugh and a shy smile, as the Irishman eased him upright again. 

“Thank you very much, sir, sorry fo-” the other man cut him off though. 

“Apologies are mine Thomas, I didn’t mean to scare ye lad.” Crozier gave a wry chuckle. 

Turning around he cleared his throat as he dried his still wet hands on the towel he had draped over his shoulder. 

“C-Captain, you should have called! I could have come to you, sir…?” he trailed off when the man held up a hand for silence.

Crozier fixed him with a stern look, “I am not an invalid yet Jopson, I can walk my own ship.”

Turning even more red by the second he stumbled over his words, “I-I.. Of course, sir, I meant no disrespect I was jus-”

When the captain laughed heartily he exhaled a sigh realizing the man was just teasing. 

“Only going up for a smoke, lad.”

Curious Jopson pulled his pocket watch out of his breast pocket, glancing at the time he couldn’t help but frown. 

A smoke? 

The telltale frown on his captain's face told him that something had transpired. 

“Sir,” 

“Sir John and Fitzjames were just here for a surprise meeting.” 

The steward’s eyes got almost comically large as an expression of sheer horror took over his features. Mouth agape and pale green eyes wide and mortified.

All the Captains had been on board and he had not been there to serve in the great cabin? 

Why didn’t they ring for him? 

Oh Christ he was in so much trouble!

Opening his mouth to start uttering apologies Francis cut him off with a hand for silence. 

“At ease Jopson, ye weren’t needed lad. That pompous buffoon wasn’t intending to stay long. Ye weren’t even missed by them.” 

Heaving out a relieved sigh he straightened himself, pushing a lock of hair out of his face as he glanced down at the floor for a moment then met the captain’s eyes. 

“Sir, is there something I can do for you?” 

“Aye, that there is. Jopson, I need you to gather Terror’s officers, and inform them that they are to report to the mess immediately. When I get back from above deck, we are to have a meeting.”

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

This was going to be a disaster, Edward just knew it. 

As it would turn out Sir John has opted for a friendly competition between the ships. 

Both ships were to put on a play and a variety of officers were supposed to be the judges on which play was better. 

The play was Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, and two officers were required to play the lead roles much to the dismay of the crew… well more Terror’s crew. 

Commander James Fitzjames had jumped for the chance to be part of the play, which surprised no one, not really with the man’s constant amiability and need for attention… he was playing Juliet.

Of course he’d dragged his close friend and Erebus’s second lieutenant, Henry Le Vesconte in the fray with him as the dashing Romeo. 

As hilarious as it originally was to Edward and Crozier, that humor was null as soon as they found out that Sir John had issued roles for Terror already.

Guess who’s name was listed as the leading man?

Indeed.

Lieutenant John Irving was supposed to be Juliet but the damn fool wouldn’t fit into the dress they had on hand. 

Yes, that Terror had. 

Earlier in the week Captain Crozier was informed that a trunk of costumes had been found behind a bunch of provisions that must have been left by accident. 

Upon further inspection, Crozier found a letter from Sir James Ross.

The man had roared with laughter to the point he had actually been crying tears of mirth.

No one got it. Except Jopson and Mr Blanky. 

Fortunately for John, he couldn’t fit in the damn dress.

Which unfortunately meant someone else had to.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

_Irving grunted with discomfort as Mr Jopson and Mr Gibson tried to get the poor man into the crinoline petticoat._

_“G-Goodness!” he rasped from where he stood behind the small divider while the steward’s worked. _

_Captain Crozier heaved a sigh pinching the bridge of his nose while Mr Blanky laughed heartily beside him where they sat at the great cabin table._

_Hodgson himself was trying not to laugh and poor Edward looked miserable. _

_“How’s it coming John?” George tittered his voice rather shrill with poor efforts to contain his amusement. _

_Edward elbowed him sharply and the man broke into a fit of giggles. _

_“I-I think it’s too small.” Irving uttered with a wheeze of a breath that was, in itself, much to small than what was normal. _

_“Gibson, put your fingers here.” Jopson instructed the younger steward in that soft gentle voice of his. _

_A brief silence before Irving let out a small gasp of ‘Oh my goodness’. _

_“On three, p-.”_

**THUD**

_When they looked up they no longer saw the back of John Irving’s head and Francis stood somewhat alarmed._

_“Oh!” Jopson exclaimed softly._

_“Jopson.” Gibson’s voice came rather curt and agitated. _

_Thomas came around the divider and cleared his throat meeting curious eyes. _

_“Captain, sir, lieutenant Irving just fainted.” he announced with a tad of nervousness on his young face._

_Crozier gaped trying to process, “He... what?” _

_“Fainted, sir.” _

_When the men continued to stare at him as if expecting something else he swallowed thickly trying to think what else he could say. _

_“Oh he’s fine, sir, I should think.”_

_All of them continued to stare and he found himself beginning to heat up in the face as he realized how candid his words had come._

_“I- .. forgive me, sir. I’ve just seen this before with… my sisters. Unfortunately, I believe the garment is too small on lieutenant Irving, and it was too tight on him.”_

_“Too fuckin’ small? On him? Christ be damned he’s the smallest out of you three.” Mr Blanky voiced his observation as his eyes went from Little to Hodgson. _

_“So that means we need a new Juliet.” Hodgson sighed, almost sounding disappointed. _

_“Has to be an Officer.” Edward muttered. _

_“Aye… and someone small enough to fit into that infernal thing.” the ice master mumbled. _

_That was when it happened, a tense silence that filled the room and gradually all the heads turned to look at the handsome young steward in front of them who in turn gave a small discomposed laugh._

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“There lad, all done.” their captain breathed with a weary sigh. 

Edward looked down at himself, his face sullen and miserable as he looked at the man with pleading eyes.

“Aye, I know, but it’s out of my hands I’m afraid, Edward.”

Jopson set the clothes brush down and turned acting as if he was going to quietly get away unnoticed but the Irish man had noticed from the corner of his eye as it were.

“Thomas Jopson, get back here.” 

His steward hung his head and shoulders before slinking back over for what he knew was coming next. 

“Oh but sir… this… this is humiliating.” 

Crozier offered the younger man a warm sympathetic smile as he approached him. 

“Aye, I know it is lad. However to be fair you have an advantage that Fitzjames does not.”

“Sir,” 

“Ye have someone who knows how to fit a man in a dress.” 

Francis couldn’t help but chuckle as Jopson’s mouth hung open before he shut it, obviously unable to deny the fact.

“I’ll… just go get Gibson...” he stated simply but the captain shook his head much to his confusion.

“No need, I’ll help you.” 

Blushing, the steward gaped for a second and Edward watched curiously as Jopson started to try and make excuses.

“Oh! Captain, sir, I-... that isn’t necessary.” 

“It is.”

“I-I… it really isn’t, sir, you’re the captain and I’m-”

“My steward. Aye, that you are. Tell me, Jopson, how often do you dress me?”

“I- every day, sir, but that’s my-” 

“Your job?” 

“Err, yes… sir.” 

“Jopson.” 

“Sir,” 

“Get behind that divider.”

“Yes, of course, sir.” 

Mildly amused by the small exchange and how relenting the young man was to give up. 

The relationship between Thomas Jopson and Captain Crozier was an interesting one, of that Edward was very certain.

“Edward, wait here.”

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Jopson turned his back to the Captain as he divested himself of his pea coat, waistcoat, and undershirt. Hanging the first two articles over the top of a chair and folding the shirt into a tidy square that he lay on the side table where the divider was set up.

Francis felt for the lad he really did, his nerves must be unbearable. 

He remembered when he and Ross did their Carnivale back in Antarctica.

When he lost the bet with Ross and he ended up wearing that damn dress in that frigid weather he was so, so very drunk by the time the festivities were over.

Poor Thomas couldn’t even look him in the eye as he turned around to face him, red faced, and eyes on the floor. 

“Jopson.” 

Those bright pale green eyes lifted from the floor to stare at him oh how miserable they looked. 

He gestured, “Pants lad. You may leave your small clothes on though.” 

“Of course, sir.”

Noting the particular glum tone to the barely whispered words Francis chuckled softly. 

“Do you remember Antarctica?” he asked the boy as he pulled down his trousers and long drawers, leaving his small clothes still attached to him at the waist. 

Some spark returned back into those young eyes as Jopson stepped out of his left trouser leg. 

Offering one of those sweet little half-smiles while he freed his other foot. “Of course, sir, you know I do.” 

“Aye? Then I’m sure you remember the wretched sight of me in a dress dancing with Sir James Ross?” 

Edward sputtered on his tea outside the divider and Jopson choked back a giggle. 

“Yes, of course, Captain, and you cut a very strapping figure in it sir, if I may be so bold.” 

“Oh ho, well you’re kinder a kinder man than Mr Blanky.”

“Captain, to be fair, that man has something foul to say about everything.” 

Both of them laughed heartily and Francis was glad to see his shoulders loose some of their tension. 

As Jopson stepped out of his right trouser leg Captain Crozier caught sign of the large scar on the lower half of his steward’s leg.

His eyes wandered from the scar on his leg to the one on his stomach, both the same age having been received the same day back in 1840.

“I remember lots of things from that expedition Jopson…”

“Penguins, sir?” 

“Oh don’t get me started on Ross and his penguins!” he huffed in mock irritation. 

“Ross almost killing us?” 

“Ah yes, the lovely tokens on your stomach and leg there.”

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

_“Jopson.” Crozier gruffed the name with an essence of admonishing._

_The young lad looked up at him from the cutlery he was polishing with attentive bright eyes and a kind smile, “Sir,” _

_“Lad, was this you?” _

_“Sir?”_

_Captain Crozier gestured him over. _

_Confused he approached the captain and to find out what had the man so cross. _

_On the back of a piece of paper, a report, there was a very… creative drawing of a penguin with a captain’s hat, a pipe, and a mean looking frown of a face._

_A frown that mirrored the crabby one that was so very… prominent on his captain’s face._

_There were words scribbled at the top of it. _

_That Natural Habitat of Captain Flipper Rawhide Morefish Croziquin, Captain of the H.M.S IrishBastards._

_It was a very insulting drawing, but the face of the penguin had Thomas biting his lower lip and emitting a small whimper that was an attempt to suppress laughter._

_“Did you do this? You think this is funny!?” the man erupted suddenly._

_Eyes wide and watering with repressed laughter he quickly shook his head, “N-No Captain… of course not, sir, I’m afraid my own drawing skills are quite… lacking, in quality.”_

_The man’s eyebrows narrowed sternly and he licked his lips nervously. _

_“I mean, that is to say… um… sir, the handwriting is… quite fancy…” _

_Glancing back down to the paper Francis studied it and his eyes darkened with realization. _

_“Ross.” he grumbled. _

_“If I may, sir, he might still be mad about the penguins you put on Erebus...”_

_Slamming the paper back on the desk he stood. _

_“My coat Jopson!” he barked. _

_Immediately the lad was scurrying to retrieve his great coat and as soon as it was on his shoulders he was stomping out the door. _

_“Sir, do you wish me to accompany you-”_

_“No!” came the snapped response._

_It took about three minutes for him to decided whether that was just one of Crozier’s angry ‘no’s that he gave when he didn’t want to talk or if it was a legit command. _

_He decided it was a legit command and began to walk back across the room to finish polishing the tableware. _

_Well, that was before a near deafening cracking sound echoed throughout the entire ship, and the ground lurched beneath his feet. _

_Everything happened so damn fast and by the he realized he had been propelled head first into one of the cabinets by the far wall. Lifting his arms to brace himself he smacked the thing hard and plates, saucers, teacups, and cutlery rained down on him. _

_Another audible snapping sound accompanied by several loud thuds that reminded him of thunder, but he knew it was the loud strain of creaking timber. _

_Reeling from the toss he rolled over onto his back, pressing his hands into his temples to ease an oncoming headache and to recollect his bearings. _

_He could hear the captain’s infuriated bellow clear from down here below deck._

_“Bleedin’ Christ!! James Ross! What in the name of piss licking cunts do you think you are fucking doing you bloody fucking moron!!!” _

_Oh shit! Did they crash?_

_The floor was still lurching violently and he had just began to sit up when a loud scraping sound in front of him caught his attention._

_Glancing up he saw that the cabinet he had been thrown into having come lose from it’s secured state, was quickly toppling and he almost felt his heart stop. _

_Quickly he began to scramble backwards out of the heavy wooden furniture’s way, but he didn’t have enough time. _

_When a near unbearable pressure and weight fell upon his hips it knocked the air right from his lungs with a violent shout of surprise._

_Gasping desperately for air he felt his vision swam dizzily as he lay there trying to get his lungs and heart to work properly again. _

_After several moments of laying there, the banging, scraping, and creaking vanished from the ship, the floor stopped jerking._

_It took several more moments as he lay there gaping like a fish before he finally felt compelled to try to move again. _

_Big mistake._

_A sharp, searing pain suddenly shot up his leg and he felt tears blearing his vision and his head was spinning like a damn vortex._

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

_Francis was pissed! What the hell was James thinking! All for a damn volcano!? Really? _

_Huffing irritably he padded back towards the great cabin with both lieutenant Archibald McMurdo and lieutenant Philip Kay, and Thomas Blanky (puffing on his pipe despite McMurdo’s warning) behind him. _

_They needed to discuss what they were going to do about the damages to both ships._

_So far they’d had reports of various minor injuries to crew, one severe as someone had been too close to the galley stove and burnt the shit out of their face apparently when they were knocked of their feet and into it._

_That man was with Dr Lynall now._

_Various things were jumbled about on the ships interior, things knocked down, broken dishes, broken bottles, and such._

_Things to be expected out of a high impact crash though._

_“Bloody, fool just bout got everyone killed.” Thomas gruffed, though he sounded rather amused more than anything. _

_Francis knew it was because he had lost his temper and brought what his old friend normally called “The Wrath of the Irish” down on both ships. _

_As he stepped foot into the great cabin he let out an irritated sigh as he saw the state of it._

_Papers everywhere, broken glass, broken china, cutlery scattered about, chairs toppled, whiskey bottles broken. _

_His poor whiskey._

_Fucking James Ross._

_Why was his steward not flitting back and forth cleaning this mess up?_

_“Jopson!” he shouted irritably._

_“H-Here, sir.” came a small tired sounding rasp._

_Thomas Blanky’s cursing and quick disappearance of the man’s pipe sparked his attention as the man bolted towards the far left wall. _

_He quickly saw why._

_“Oh fucking Christ!” he spat immediately he and his two lieutenants were crouching beside the fallen cabinet that had effectively pinned the lad down to the floor when it’d fallen on him. _

_The poor boy looked tired and more worrisome very pale like he’d lost blood._

_His eyes were roving and despite his situation there was a small smile on his face as he held a teacup in one hand and the handle that had snapped off it in the other. _

_“Tea’s bout ready, sir.” he whispered with what was without a doubt the most adorably innocent smile Francis had ever seen in his life. _

_“Lieutenants, that side. Thomas help me.” he grumbled. _

_With the four of them, they were able to lift the heavy mahogany off the young lad who continued to lay there and stare up with a disoriented stare._

_That was when Francis saw the blood that was puddling on the floor near Jopson’s leg from a massive gash and the knife that still hung embedded deep in his leg. _

_Blood was smeared all over the floor where he was laying, it was on his clothes and his pea coat. Half the buttons had been ripped off the thing, specifically the bottom which allowed it to hang slightly open, thus revealing the boy’s white undershirt. _

_Well mostly white, there was a dark red patch on the lower left side of his abdomen that was still growing in size._

_“Jaysus,! Don’t bloody stand there, boys! Go get the doctors!” Blanky snapped since he was too surprised to do anything. _

_With the two men quickly dispersing Francis was immediately crouching beside the lad who was smiling at him. _

_“Thomas?” _

_“Are you alright, sir?” the sweet boy asked as if he wasn’t bleeding all over the damn floor. _

_Grumbling a curse he made quick work of the buttons on Jopson’s coat, and undershirt, wanting to assess just how bad this was for himself. _

_“Oh! Sir… that’s… what are you doing?” the boy asked in that voice Crozier recognized as the tone he used when he was shy and there would be a red coloring his young face._

_Probably would be now if he hadn’t lost so much blood already._

_He must not even realized he’d been injured, and that was an advantage for the moment. Best keep him calm. _

_Tapping Blanky’s arm momentarily Francis nodded his head towards the younger man who was trying to peer down to look at himself. _

_Already understanding what his old friend was doing, Mr Blanky managed to catch the younger man’s attention with his next words.  
“Aye, he’s seeing if he needs to break Captain Ross’s nose or knock out some fuckin’ teeth, lad.”_

_Crozier finally got the fabric out of the way and he swallowed thickly when he saw the small whittling knife that was stuck in Jopson’s stomach. _

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“He almost killed us.” Jopson laughed softly before swallowing thickly as Crozier picked up the crinoline petticoat and unbuckled the thing. 

“Aye, that he did. Definitely almost killed you. The great bloody moron.” the captain agreed. 

A tense silence filled the air and Jopson flinched blushing deeply as the captain’s fingers fell upon his waist. 

“I also recall first meeting you Thomas Jopson.” 

Grunting for a moment as the Crozier tightened the crinoline skirt above his hips, Jopson let out an abashed titter. “I must have made quite the first impression, sir.” 

Crozier chuckled softly at this and grabbed the dress off the back of the chair it was draped over. 

“Indeed. If my memory serves me correctly, I recall a striking young man of eighteen, bright eyed, smile, dark hair, barely a whisker on his face still maturing jaw… turn to me lad,” 

Thomas turned around to face the captain who was staring at him with such fondness it made his heart swell, even with the dress the man was holding bunched at the bottom for him to step into it. 

As he turned Francis let his eyes ghost over his steward’s figure for a second and the lad smiled weakly. 

Having not seen his steward in such a state of undress since 1840, Francis couldn’t help but let his eyes wander the obvious changes the young man had undergone since then. 

The once bare and still developing chest was now modestly hirsute. Dark hair that spanned his breast between two dark nipples (peaks made mildly pointed from the cold he observed), the hair continued down his belly in a thin line that thickened about an inch from his belly button and became a thatch of the start of nether hair. Of course he noticed the faded two inch scar on the left side of Jopson’s lower belly from Ross’s accident. 

Jopson’s thighs were not the hairiest one’s Francis had seen. (In fact if he recalled correctly, James Ross’s thighs had been quite decorated with hair just about as red as the stuff on the Scottish mariner’s head). However starting a few inches below his knees, the man’s lower legs were sporting the same equally dark hair. The dark hair made a direct contrast for the eight inch wan pink scar that ran the length of Jopson’s right shin. Furred arms with smooth, muscled biceps arms and shoulders, dark hair beneath them. 

Broad shouldered and lean but still toned with distributed muscle and now decorated with modest amounts of body hair, Thomas Jopson was a handsome young man.

Crozier couldn’t help but think to himself that if he ever had children as unlikely as it were, he would wish them to the benefit of good looks like Jopson.

Even though, at this point Jopson was the closest thing of a son to him than anything. 

“,noticeably hairless then, well besides the neatly preened stuff on his head, skinny, and goodness how very shy, and staring at me like I had two heads and was going to eat him.” Crozier’s brogue drawled off thick on his tongue and the spark of it made the younger man beam brightly despite the blush that had spread across his face as the man continued his tale, pausing momentarily to instruct him. “Arms up sailor.” 

Reluctant as he was, he wouldn’t lie the Irish Captain’s voice and the words that it spoke were making this a lot less difficult, so he did as he was told. 

Francis bunched up the fabric and helped the dress over Jopson’s head, the younger man grabbing hold of his shoulder for balance while he got one arm at a time through the sleeves.

As the captain pulled the dress down over him he swallowed thickly, biting his lip to force himself not to look down at how ridiculous he must look. 

Instead he willed himself to speak, meeting Crozier’s deep blue eyes as the words came forth. “I had heard stories of you, sir, admittedly none to flattering.”

His captain fixed him with an amused gaze and that wry tooth-gaped smile of his, “Stories? Do share Mr Jopson.” 

Mild discomfort sparked in Thomas’s eyes at the request and he found himself shaking his head slightly, “I’m afraid, sir, I wouldn’t like to repeat such things, because I’ve found them to be most untrue-” 

The captain patted his shoulder reassuringly, “Not to worry lad, I know, humour your Captain's curiosity.”

Gulping nervously Jopson nodded, “Yes, of course, sir. More than once I’d heard horrific stories of a notorious Irish temper. Some claimed you were easy to anger and impatient, and...”

“Yes?” Francis asked as he eased the skirt down the younger man’s legs. 

“A melancholic drunkard… overall an insufferable man.” he finished, voice sad and held hints of emotion like he was crying. 

Crying?

With that thought Francis peered up into those pale green eyes that were indeed very, _very_ wet.

“Oh lad, what on Earth is the matter?”

“I… forgive me, sir.” Jopson sniffled softly, using long fingers to wipe at the tears on cheeks still graced with tendrils of pink.

Baffled he couldn’t help but ask, “What in Heaven for?” 

“I should had known better, sir,” he said. “, than to form my opinion of you by the accounts of words from others. I should have-” 

He trailed off when two large hands clasped around his wrists, pulling his hands away from his face. 

Warm and calloused thumbs began to wipe the clear droplets from his face instead. 

Hesitantly the younger man’s eyes lifted to his gaze and he grinned fondly at the lad.

“Thomas Jopson, you sweet boy…” 

Those eyes hardened the slightest bit despite their wetness, “I mean it, Captain. The things that were said about you, sir, I find no truth in a one of them. In fact, you feel more like… like...” 

Thomas turned a bright red, realizing he’d revealed a bit too much as it was. Oh dear, he’d gone on too far. This was bordering on the lines of silly and absurd… both Little and Crozier himself would laugh at him for sure. 

At his suspicious blush Crozier lifted a curious eyebrow, “Like what?” 

Jopson tried to wet his lips with his tongue, they suddenly felt so unbearably dry. 

“I… like a father, sir.” the words squeaked out in a barely audible whisper. 

To his surprise Captain Crozier gave him the biggest smile he’d surely ever seen directed at him, and he started slightly when he felt strong, cordial, and muscled arms wrap around his shoulders to pull him into an embrace.

Stumbling forward slightly with the force of the gifted hug, his legs brushed against the skirts of the dress and he felt so ridiculous, like he and the captain were going on a date.

Good Lord… that’s surely how it was going to feel with Lieutenant Little… Oh this was awful. 

The mere idea of having appearing on a date with Edward Little in front of a whole crew, two whole crews, had left him whimpering in a misery of humiliation against the Irish Captain’s chest. 

Despite all this the warmheartedness that had filled his chest as the captain’s affection and clear understanding of where exactly the man, once a stranger, now a very, _very_ dear friend stood in his heart as an important figure, it drove him to return the embrace with equal affection, letting his cheek rest against he captain’s coat, a wobbling smile on his lips as he fought not to burst into tears.

That fight easily broke when the captain finally pulled away and cupped his face in his large calloused hands.

“Thomas Jopson, I love you and I’m proud of you son.” was all he said before crushing him back into another hug.

All the fear and worry of this upcoming play seemed to vanish in that moment and he let out another whimper, this one more of emotion than misery and a broad smile beamed onto his face, although when he spoke his voice wavered with a breathless joy.

In the other room Edward Little couldn’t help the tight feeling in his chest as he listened to the exchange, the two men had probably forgotten he was even in the same room. 

He found that the words that had just been exchanged warmed him a great deal and it forced a fond smile onto his own face. 

Now, all the sudden the mystery and uniqueness of the relationship between the captain and the man who served as his steward didn’t seem all that strange. 

First Lieutenant Edward Little, wasn’t one known for saccharine but even he couldn’t deny that the bond the two men shared was sweet and amiable. 

It was hard, for many a sailor, to be away from home for so long, but far more difficult was it to be away from the sea.

The fact that the polite and hard working young man that Petty Officer Thomas Jopson wont to be could find a semblance of family all these miles from home… it brought him some reassurance.

Why this was, Edward didn’t rightly know himself.

Maybe things won’t be so bad.

The play however, that was going to be miserable.


	2. Chapter 2

“C-Captain I can’t...” came a wheezing rasp of a breath behind the divider. 

“Hold still, lad.” Captain Crozier’s gruff command immediately followed.

A rather shrill high pitched squeak that Edward could only imagine came from Jopson, he didn’t think it was possible for Captain Francis Crozier’s voice to go so high.

There was a stretching sound of leather and another squeak and a gasp for breath. 

“S-Sir…” 

“Aye?” 

“Tight, s-sir… hard…” 

“Easy lad, hang on I’ll cut that last one. Bleedin’ Christ. How do women breathe in these things...” 

“Sir, I-I can’t…” 

All the sudden there came a loud gasping breath that while still laboured sounded a lot more sturdy. 

Good Lord. Was the captain killing Mr Jopson?

“To attention Lieutenant!” 

Crozier’s full fledged captain’s roar hit him like a slap in the face and he was instantly out of his chair and on his feet. Back straight, head forward, and one arm behind his back in proper stance for awaiting orders.

The captain finally stepped out from behind the divider and Edward swallowed thickly, Adam's apple bobbing with his screaming anxiety. 

His misery came back to mind when the Captain teased him lightly, 

“Lieutenant Romeo. Ye’ve got the presence of a lovely lady on board. Do be a gentlemen, won’t you?”

“Captain!” a vehement hiss and something that looked suspiciously like clothes brush, maybe, was chucked at their Irish captain from the divider and it hit him square in the shoulder. 

The older man began to chortle softly, “Fine lad, I won’t bruise your ego any further.” 

Jopson stepped out from behind the divider and Edward couldn’t help but stare in astonishment.

Here came Petty Officer Thomas Jopson, clad in a striking red dress that hugged his body tightly, his waist was cinched with what looked like a corset, either that or he hadn’t realized how thin the man was? 

The dress itself was a silky deep crimson with black lace interwoven over the top and fringes of lace that hung over Jopson’s shoulders like his own set of epaulettes. The bottom half was adorned with ruffles and pleats that reminded Edward of something he’d once seen his mother wear.

It had looked absolutely absurd and his father had never wanted to see that dress again.

There was a hair clip attached at the base of Jopson’s head that made it look like he had his hair pulled up, the fake black hair dangling in mid-length of waves and crimps… red lipstick.

Good lord, if it wasn’t for the few black tufts of chest hair made clearly visible beneath the plunging neckline of the dress he would have thought the man before him was actually a woman.

“I look… awful don’t I, sir?” 

“Y-Yes… of course… wait I mean.. no?” he uttered before he could even think. 

Edward couldn’t help but give an awkward sideways grimace as Jopson blushed bright red and silently stepped behind their Captain as if he could hide behind the man all night.

Groaning Francis buried his face in his hands, “For fuck’s sake boys… just go get it over with.” 

When both men failed to move even a hair, he gave an aggravated snort of breath, like some bull. “Little, get over here.”

The man did move, but he didn’t let it stop himself from dragging his feet as he did approach them, looking more and more like a scolded puppy.

When he was within arms reach he grabbed the lieutenant firmly by his shoulders and turned the man around so his back was facing him. 

“Err… sir? Oh…” he trailed off as the captain grabbed Jopson’s hand and forced it on his arm.

“Sir… please don't’ make us do this. This is your ship you can-” 

“Belay that Mr Jopson!”

Immediately Jopson fell silent, staring with eyes as wide as an owl’s.

“Now both of you are going to walk down that hall and to that stage, like a proper Romeo and his dear Juliet, or so help me I will have your duties made a living hell on this ship. I will NOT have this ship losing this competition to Commander Fitzfucking James and that prematurely gray Le Vescante. Do I make myself clear?” 

He got a simultaneous response of ‘Yes, sir’

“Good, now go.” 

Jopson met Little’s gaze the redness on his face seeping up his ears and down his neck as the lieutenant looped their arms together like a proper gentleman. 

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Oh ho! Well Jopson, don’t ya look like a proper little fuckin’ lady. Least you skipped out on those ridiculous fake bosoms.” Mr Blanky gruffed around the lip of his pipe. 

Jopson turned five shades of red almost immediately and Lieutenant Little was growing more amused by the fact that this was the fifth time they’d had to stop and readjust their walk because Thomas kept trying to ease himself behind his shoulder and use him as a barrier for prying eyes. 

“Mr Jopson, you heard what the Captain said. Get over here.” he reminded the steward.

Oh and the man joined his side again and Edward let out a sigh of mild frustration and… secret content as Jopson instead resorted to hiding his face in his shoulder as they walked. 

This poor man might have a stroke as soon as he sets foot on stage. 

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Edward could hear his own pulse thrumming in his head as he and Jopson made their way down the ramp from Terror and onto the ice. 

At the last second Crozier agreed, due to temperatures, that Jopson should wear something else besides the dress and promptly found a furry coat that didn’t look too manly apparently it belong to Gibson. 

No one asked. 

Though it was rather long on the steward it did seem to keep the shivers at bay. 

As they got closer and closer to the designated spot where a makeshift stage had been set up, Jopson started to become in even worse a mood. 

Rather sour in fact pouting like a petulant child and it was rather amusing, or it would be if didn’t know for a fact that he himself must look like a grump. 

The mere idea of sun beam smile Jopson scowling in distaste was enough for most people to feel they had to go repent for ever sin they had ever committed. 

Yet there the scowl was. 

“I hate this.” the young man growled angrily.

Edward swallowed thickly as he nodded in agreement, trying to keep his eyes straight ahead and not glance at the handsome being beside him. 

“I can’t even walk correct-” 

As if on cue the younger sailor’s body pitched forward as he tripped over the skirt. 

Lieutenant Little didn’t even think he swivelled and caught the younger man with a firm hold on his left bicep and an arm that looped around his front. 

Jopson breathed a sigh of relief as he helped right him and nodded his thanks.

“Ah our fellow Romeo and Juliet.” came a deep voice from in front of them. 

Turning they both saw Lieutenant Le Vescante and… well that must be Fitzjames. 

Commander Fitzjames was clad in a royal blue silky satin gown with black lace and intricate patterns adorning the front. The skirt on the thing was flared out ridiculously. The commander’s arms were fitted with tight blue rippling silk sleeves that ended with a ruffle of blue accented with black ripples of lace. He must have stuffed the bodice because his chest was puffed out rather laughably. A black wig, pink lipstick… and was that eyeliner? 

“Edward, you clean up nicely.” Dundy chuckled. 

“Um.. er… thank you, Henry.” 

Jopson let out a startled whimper and tried to manoeuvrer himself behind the lieutenant again when Commander Fitzjames looked at him.

At this point Edward was too done to care about the Captain’s specific orders to keep in role, so he just let the poor man hide. 

“Dundy, look at that dress!” James cried in a tone very… unbecoming for his rank. 

Edward felt Jopson’s hands on the back of his shoulders as the man slowly peeked from behind him only to gasp and duck back again when Fitzjames marched himself over to them. 

“Tut tut, Jopson. No need to be shy, let me look at you.” Commander Fitzjames gushed, looping a long arm around the petty officer’s waist and pulling him in close. 

Jopson gasped softly, pushing weakly against the commander’s chest in attempts to free himself as James preened and prodded at him. 

Henry on the other hand was quite thoroughly entertained, laughing heartily at the site of his friend heckling the other more self-conscious and very uncomfortable younger sailor.

“Oh please, sir, I… am humiliated enough as it is…” the steward stuttered. 

Fitzjames ran his fingers over the red fabric and flicked the black fringes of lace that hung around the neckline. 

“Such a beautiful dress.” the man murmured and there was a tad bit of an envious fire in them, Jopson swallowed thickly. 

“Well, Jopson, n'es-tu pas fringant.”

“I… what?”

“He said you look dashing.” Edward offered from the side.

“I… err.. thank you, sir…” the young man uttered, remembering his manners even if right now propriety was farthest from his mind. 

This was madness.

Briefly fingers combed through tufts of chest hair and Jopson gasped before wiggling away from the Commander’s hold, and slinking behind Edward’s other side. 

“Aw, come now Jopson. Come back. I promise I shan’t bite you… not hard.” Fitzjames cooed making to side step Edward.

Okay he’d let this go on long enough. 

Swallowing thickly, Edward raised an arm to block Fitzjames’s advance, and the other man pushed his lip out in a pout.

“With respect, sir, I would request that you leave him be.” 

Commander Fitzjames gave him the most suggestive wink in the history of suggestive winks and Little heaved a sigh as the man returned back to Le Vescante’s side.

What he wasn’t expecting was how Fitzjames turned his body to Henry and basically latched onto him.

Both Terrors turned bright red in shock as he began to grind against himself against Henry’s hip, all the while nibbling at the lieutenant's ear leaving pink lipstick on the flesh in lip’s wake. 

Dundy just smiled affectionately at James and reached down the front of the dress the commander was wearing. 

When his hand came back holding a biscuit that the ever snacking lieutenant idly began to munch on Jopson let out a very undignified noise. 

“What…? Where did you-?” the steward started before quickly passing red and straight to purple when the lieutenant produced another biscuit from James’s bodice. 

“S-Sir… did you… did you stuff that with?” Edward stuttered.

“Why of course I did, I can’t let my beloved Romeo go hungry now can I? Performance works up an appetite. He needs a snack every once in a while.”

Le Vescante let out a rough growl, turning and scooping the Commander into his arms by the waist and tilting them to the point both Terrors thought the man’s back would surely snap.

“Vous êtes une collation.”

The two men kissed briefly before they righted themselves standing side by side and studying them. 

A devious glint came into the commander’s eyes… 

“Edward, je peux te regarder l'enculer.” 

At the spoken words, Edward actually stumbled backwards a few steps as if he’d been struck. Face going so damn red Jopson thought he was going to pass out.

Lieutenant Le Vescante and Commander Fitzjames were howling with laughter and Edward was standing there as if someone had spat on his Sunday shoes.

The poor lieutenant's mouth just hung open in a mute state of outrage, big brown eyes blown wide enough they could surely be seen from several feet away.

_ ‘What on Earth did he say?’_

“James I think you broke the man...” 

“Je vais pas baiser avec lui!” 

Le Vescante wiped tears of mirth from his eyes, wheezing desperately for air before he finally managed to find his voice again. 

“Tu veux baiser avec lui, non?”

“No I most certainly do not! How dare you-”

James’s face lit up like a sky of stars. “Oh really? Well then Edward… Je peux baiser avec lui, au moins?"

The poor steward’s eyes were darting back and forth, he had no idea what the hell was being said but he was starting to get worried that fists were gonna fly here in a second.

Especially when Edward took a threatening step forward, fists clenched at his sides as he forced out through grit teeth. “Tu ne peux pas baiser avec lui.”

Dundy reached over and grabbed another biscuit from the commander’s bodice and Edward scowled before speaking again with a dark vehemence to his tone. 

_“Tu vas le baiser ou le manger? Il se peut que les deux choses.”_

James let out a high pitched giggle while Dundy began to chew rather slowly, swallowing equally as slow before purring very, very seductively. “Both.” 

Edward was seething with rage and Jopson walked around, putting himself between the older men he put his hands up to the man’s shoulders and pressed gently. 

“Lieutenant, maybe we best be going… we have to rehearse.”

“For the bedroom.” James snickered lowly and Jopson gave Little a rough shove in the other direction to divert his focus. 

“Please, sir, Captain Crozier requested it remember?” 

“That’s quite alright, we got to be going anyways. Right Dundy?” 

Le Vescante nodded munching on a biscuit.

As the two Terrors turned to make their way to the stage Commander Fitzjames called out to the lieutenant one last time. 

“Lieutenant Little.” 

Warily Edward looked over his shoulder.

_“Et toi, le baise pas trop._ He looks fragile.” 

Beet red and visibly upset the two continued walking. 

“What was all that about? What did he say?” Jopson asked suspiciously. 

“Nothing.” 

As the two Terror walked away Fitzjames folded his arms across his biscuit stuffed chest in a pout.

“Henry, that man looks more striking in a dress than I do. I am upset.” 

Le Vescante leaned in, wrapping his arms around him and snaking free another biscuit. 

_“Absurde, les dauphins qui volent, c'est magnifique, je t'aime... - Tu plaisantes toujours!_

James’s eyes softened and he looked at Henry adoringly. 

_“Je t'aime plus que quiconque.” _

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

With him being made to continue his role he swallowed deeply as he reached out a large albeit trembling hand to grasp Jopson... his Juliet's, in his own. 

The steward’s eyes lifted to him nervously, his face going a pretty pink as he sat stock still.

“If I profane with my unworthiest hand  
This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this”

Someone in the audience let out cat calling whistle, from the looks of it, it was Mr Blanky who was sitting beside Francis both men already looked like they’d indulged in more than enough spirits for the night as they tittered among themselves.

“My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand  
To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.”

Jopson was fanning himself idly with the flimsy feather of a thing that he’d been using when they were near the fire that had been set up. 

The poor man was sweating profusely and most of the time his skin looked ghostly and his breath came with a rattle. 

A long silence filled the makeshift stage and he had to nudge Jopson’s leg with a booted foot to remind the man that it was his line.

Jopson started slightly having to clear his throat again in order to pitch it high like he’d been doing to play Juliet. 

Man probably wouldn’t have a voice tomorrow.

“Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,  
Which mannerly devotion shows in this. For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.” he finished with a weak smile that didn’t come close to meeting his eyes.

“Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?” he asked inching forward in his chair just so slightly. 

His Juliet breathed in a shaky rasp of a breath, brushing an errant strand of black hair from ‘her’ temple. “Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.”

Inching forward again he brought their faces so close he could smell the soap on the man’s clean shaven jaw and he could see how those red lined lips quavered in discomfort. 

“O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do.  
They pray; grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.”

“S-Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake.” the poor man’s voice crackled slightly as he stumbled for his line.

“Then move not, while my prayer’s effect I take.” 

He moved in placing his left hand on the back of dark hair and bringing both their lips together in a sensual kiss, Jopson’s eyes blew wide open, it had been established that for the sake of themselves they would kiss each other’s cheeks or something, not this.

Some of the men in the audience laughed, some cat called, and then of course there was Mr Blanky’s surly drunken voice shouting across the stage. 

“Atta boy Edward! Yar teach that saucy lil’ tart who’s in charge!”  
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“My feet hurt.. oh god…” Jopson’s voice came a rather shrill whine as he limped back up the ramp to Terror, Edward trudging behind him. 

He hadn’t said a word, not since they had finished the play and the captain had given them leave to return to the ship early while the others helped clean up.

Edward couldn’t stop thinking about how it felt to have the younger man’s lips against his.

That kiss.

How Jopson’s face had tinted so prettily with pink, like the tulips in the spring, the small squeak that had been uttered so very quietly against his mouth. 

Jopson stumbled at the bottom of the ladder as soon as they were below deck. 

Edward was still descending the ladder when the man let out a miserable whimper and sat down right in the walk way and began to take the high heeled shoes off right there.

The sight of Jopson’s long legs poking out from beneath that dress and him rubbing the soles of his feet tenderly and uttering the smallest of pained hisses ignited something in him.

Without even giving it a second thought, Edward bent down, and strong arms made their way beneath Jopson’s waist and shoulders before he scooped the man up off the ground with one great sweep.

“L-Lieutenant!?” Jopson yelped in surprise and morbid embarrassment, squirming and wiggling in his arms as Little walked straight for his bed cabin. 

“Edward put me-mnnn” his protests were silenced with starving lips that attacked his with an insistence and Jopson felt his heart fluttering high than he thought possible.

Tossing the shoes to the ground he raised his own hands to card through Lieutenant Little’s whiskers. 

Edward slid his bed cabin door open with his foot and immediately deposited him on his bunk. 

Going a crimson that matched the shade of the dress that he was fitted into Jopson stared with stunned eyes that were quickly darkening with what could only be interpreted as lust.

He took the hair clip out and tossed it carelessly on the floor.

The lieutenant's pants were sporting an impressive and intimidating bulge and Jopson mewled softly at the thought. 

“A-Are you sure, sir?” 

“Turn around and I’ll show you just how sure I am when I get you out of that infernal thing, Mr Jopson.”

The growl that had become Terror’s second’s voice sent a heatwave of warmth to his belly and he groaned, sliding off the small bunk and bending himself over it. 

Edward had retrieved his boat knife and was flaying through fabric and laces, he didn’t give a shit about the dress he wanted it off. 

He wanted to see this beautiful being as he was.

When the corset was cut off Jopson emitted a horrifying gasp that almost made Edward piss himself with fright, then the man started coughing. 

“Jesus, oh god… air…” the man muttered resting his sweaty forehead against the linens. 

“Were you struggling that whole time? Why didn’t you say anything you stupid man?!” Edward actually snapped at him in irritation. 

Jopson let out a nervous laugh, “The captain ordered it.” 

Grumbling a curse Edward sliced through the remains of the fabric with a lour shriiiiiiiiiip and let it fall away from the steward’s body. 

Thomas reached down to his waist and unbuckled the crinoline skirt and tossed it to the side, laying there resting for a second as Edward fumbled with his trousers. 

“Turn around.” the man gruffed finally and as soon as he did rough demanding lips crashed against his and he was bodily hauled onto the bunk, the lieutenant quickly climbing on top of him as he deepened the kiss as if he were a starving man. 

Hands eased his small clothes down and a firm hand was grasping his semi-hard cock, stroking it to life. 

Letting his eyes flit open he could see warm brown pools staring at him with nothing short of awe and fascination, teeth nibbled pleadingly at his bottom lip and he felt so very keen to indulge.

“O-Oh…” he groaned softly as he allowed a thick demanding tongue to invade him. 

A warm hand travelled down his belly to his thigh, moving inwards and up in silent command for him to spread his legs. 

Pulling away from that demanding mouth he let out a breathless whimper and his back arched as he pushed his engorged prick further into the hand that pumped him hard and fast. 

“E-Edward… ohh...” 

The officer chuckled softly, lips kissed the tip of his nose briefly before moving to kiss his chin, then travelled down his neck with warm open mouthed kisses that nibbled along his prickled skin.

“Mr Jopson, you are far more beautiful like this...” the man purred, a finger slicked through a bead of arousal fluid that was dripping down the length of his cock.

“I-I.. thank you, sir…” he gasped out, a shiver running up his spine briefly as a wet finger trailed a circle around his entrance. 

“That performance was excellent… should I reward you?” Edward gruffed before licking tenderly at a perky bud on the left side of Jopson’s chest.

It was explosive, the reaction this got him. 

The smaller man groaned loudly, his hips canting up as his back arched against where he’d pinned him down on the bedclothes and he let out the most wanton lewd noise that Edward had ever heard in his life, and he’d heard a lot of lewd noises in the whorehouses.

“Good Lord, you are sensitive.” he couldn’t help but laugh softly. 

“Y-Yes, sir… oh please… more...” the other man pleaded with wide eyes that were becoming glassy.

“Mmm, you beg so prettily, Mr Jopson.” 

He returned to the small bud and teased it with his whiskers, tongue and the light scraping of teeth. 

It seemed to drive the man absolutely wild with pleasure, as he lay there mewling, whining, and hands desperately combing through his dark brown waves, but when he wrapped his lips around the perky thing Jopson was absolutely writhing with stimulation, unable to keep still.

Lavishing the sensitive skin with attentions from his mouth he took this moment to ease his finger inside the man’s body and the elicited gasp was heavenly. 

Hands fell from his hair to trail down his shoulders, fingers running over a couple freckles in their decent and he groaned lowly as he pulled himself from the steward’s chest to capture his mouth with his own again.

Moving his finger this way then that, he gradually worked the smaller man open enough to insert a second digit and he marvelled at how Jopson instinctively spread his legs wider for him. 

“Oh… sir… please… please oh fuck me sir...” Jopson begged desperately grinding himself against his hand.

Edward chuckled softly as he removed his fingers and freed his own erection lining himself up with the beautiful man beneath him. 

“Je vais te baiser toute la nuit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SIDE NOTE!! I DO NOT SPEAK FRENCH!! I used this sight called contex.reverso SO MY INTENTION WAS NOT TO OFFEND ANYONE!!
> 
> This is the translations though.
> 
> “Well, Jopson, n'es-tu pas fringant.”  
(Well, Jopson, don't you look dashing.)
> 
> “Vous êtes une collation.”  
(You are a snack.)
> 
> “Edward, je peux te regarder l'enculer.”  
(Edward can I watch you fuck him?)
> 
> “Je vais pas baiser avec lui!”  
(I am not going to fuck him!)
> 
> “Tu veux baiser avec lui, non?”  
(You want to fuck him, don’t you?)
> 
> Je peux baiser avec lui, au moins? (Can I at least fuck him?)
> 
> Tu ne peux pas baiser avec lui.” (You can’t fuck him.) 
> 
> “Tu vas le baiser ou le manger? Il se peut que les deux choses.”  
(Are you gonna fuck him or eat him?)
> 
> “Et toi, le baise pas trop. He looks fragile.”  
(Don’t fuck him too hard.)
> 
> “Absurde, les dauphins qui volent, c'est magnifique, je t'aime... - Tu plaisantes toujours !  
(Ridiculous, its beautiful, and I love you.) <-- I HAVE A FEELING THAT IS VERY WRONG PLEASE LEMME KNOW!!
> 
> “Je t'aime plus que quiconque.”  
(I love you more than anyone else.)
> 
> “Je vais te baiser toute la nuit."  
(I’m going to fuck you all night long).
> 
> AND THAT'S A WRAP!!! This has been absolutely amazing and FILTHY to write and I am so damn proud of myself.

**Author's Note:**

> **Please note! I know Ross's near death of both Terror and Erebus in a collision happened in 1842 but this is fiction and thus I am turning it to 1840. **
> 
> **Yes I know Ross wore the dress in Antarctica but again I am changing it. Francis it is.**
> 
> **To the most of my knowledge NO there are no historical notes that said Jopson had a tummy scar. I put it there. Because I can. Meowwrrr**
> 
> There were several bits in this that were inspired by others who I have been heckling and harassing with my progress on this shamelessly on discord. 
> 
> Credit for the idea of Ross's 'whoopsie' moment on the Antarctic Expedition being what led to Thomas Jopson's historically noted scar on his right leg, belongs to **Wolfermann** I added the idea of the injury going more extensive than just a wound on his leg (AKA knife impalement! :D )
> 
> The last bit on the first chapter was also inspired by a little RP joke between me and here regarding Thomas being embarrassed wearing a dress. 
> 
> Jopson: -miserable whimpering-  
Crozier:  
Jopson: -less miserable whimpering-
> 
> THERE WILL BE MORE WHERE THIS CAME FROM I ENCOURAGE YOU ALL TO STAY TUNED!!


End file.
